


Ring Your Bell

by MidoriKurenaiYume



Series: Far on the Water [3]
Category: Fate/Zero, Fate/stay night & Related Fandoms
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - No Powers, Arguing, Betaed, Dialogue, Drama, F/M, Holding a grudge, Light Angst, Sharing a Bed, Slow Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-26
Updated: 2017-08-05
Packaged: 2018-11-05 05:59:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 6,759
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11007441
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MidoriKurenaiYume/pseuds/MidoriKurenaiYume
Summary: How Gilgamesh and Arturia started to attempt to work on their marriage, deciding whether getting along was an option after all.





	1. If my heart were to disappear someday

**Author's Note:**

> This is the third part of a series, therefore I recommend reading Believe and Heavenly Blue first ;) again, the characters are rather OOC, but less so than in the previous parts :P
> 
> Title: from a Kalafina song, of course (17th single, part of the 'Far on the Water' album as well). The chapters' titles are lyrics from the song 'Ring Your Bell'; credits for the translation go to the canta-per-me.net forum ;)  
> Special thanks to MimiBlue for her patient beta work!!!

…

…

…

Arturia was perhaps no longer giving him the cold shoulder, but that didn’t mean that getting on better terms with her was going to happen anytime soon.

Every time Gilgamesh met her eyes, he saw a dark shadow, and he knew that the reproach he could read in them was not going to disappear for a long time. She was still angry with him, and he disliked the fact that he knew that she had every right to be so.

In their bedroom, he was still very much confined to the floor, for she had been uncompromising and had not changed her mind. While he could not deny that he did wish to share the bed with her, it wasn’t what continued to plague his thoughts.

He did not want Arturia to continue giving him those cold glances, treating him with the most detached behaviour, keeping her distance even during the rare times she was forced by circumstances to address him… as if he was the _cause_ of her unhappiness.

Something that, to his utmost frustration, was actually the case.

But he was resolute in his purpose to get to know her better, and since she was still making it rather difficult to converse with her, there was another very simple way of trying to get to know her: observe her.

Many things he learned about her through simple observation did not surprise him, as he had been able to guess them from their very first meeting, when he had been interested enough to ask for her hand in marriage after a mere few hours. But other small things about the way she behaved gave him a deeper insight and, contrary to his habit, he pondered carefully over what her actions told him about her character.

He could see now that, if he had been honest from the start, he would have obtained the same results in terms of having a queen at his side – she would have still married him – but he would have had her full love and caring as well. Instead, by manipulating and using her genuine feelings and innocent trust, he had unknowingly turned them into a bitter contempt.

But what was worse, he had hurt her deeply, in a way that a person like her would not forgive, or at least not easily.

The more he saw of her, the more he desired to have her attention and her dedication directed towards _him_ , not only their village, for she had captivated him far too deeply. He wanted her caring and he wanted her love; she had told him that she had feelings for him, but he was fully aware that having used them to manipulate her must have changed that.

Because of his narrow-minded intention of controlling her and because he had only focused on what _he_ wanted, he had arrogantly thought he would calm her down later.

He absolutely hated the fact that he had severely damaged his chances at true happiness in a marriage with her himself, and there was no way of knowing if he would ever manage to restore them.

…

…

They rarely spent time together, but as chance may have it, it finally occurred that they were sharing dinner, just the two of them. Gilgamesh concluded that remaining silent throughout it wasn’t the best option, so he decided to address her. But before he could open his mouth, she cut him off.

“I do not wish to discuss anything with you.”

Cold words, undoubtedly, but not enough to deter him. He studied her over the glass of water – peculiarly, he had chosen to decline wine – that he was holding, and inclined his head to the side a little. He had already finished eating, and was not going to give up on this opportunity for a reasonable conversation.

“Then, instead of a discussion, let me ask you questions.”

She eyed him warily, conveying all her mistrust and disbelief with that one glance.

He sighed. “No matter how much it annoys me to say this, you can always decide not to answer, Arturia.”

He kept studying her, but her expression didn’t change. He could not deny to himself that he felt the slight, even though he made sure to hide it; he stood up, ready to leave the room, when her voice reached him at the last moment.

“Very well. Ask your questions.” She put down her cutlery, as she was finished with her meal as well.

He barely held back his glee at hearing her reply, and took a seat again, this time making sure his stool was slightly closer to his wife. He had several things to ask, and he was quite certain that she wasn’t going to refuse to answer him.

“Back at the inn where you lived, who were the usual patrons?”

She was a little startled by that kind of question, which was referring to her past in town, and she stared at him in puzzlement, as she had not expected him to be curious about _that_.

He brought his hand forward to touch a lock of her hair but, seeing how she stiffened slightly, retracted it and elaborated, “That evening, there was more than one intoxicated fool that asked you to marry him. Who were they?”

She recalled that very well – surprised that he did so too – and sighed.

“I didn’t usually work night shifts,” she disclosed, and to her astonishment, he seemed strangely _interested_ in what she was saying, as he was listening very attentively. “I didn’t like the behaviour of some patrons after a certain hour. It was too forward.” She shifted uncomfortably. “The evening you were there, the inn’s owner’s sisters were sick. I had no choice but to take their place at the main counter.”

Recalling the people who had been harassing her, she continued, “The man with red hair was Mr. Shirou. He has been married for a couple of years already; his wife is a very energetic young woman who has more than one admirer in town.”

She frowned slightly. “I’m afraid Mr. Shirou isn’t the best kind of man. He’s certainly always in good spirits, but he seems to lack something more substantial, for he doesn’t seem to be able to be content with his wife – he tends to look at any other woman as well. But at the very least, he doesn’t cross the line of decorum and never tries anything physical. While it’s still not excusable, the worst he does is ask women to marry him whenever he gets tipsy, something that can be dismissed as a joke.” Again she looked uncomfortable. “He doesn’t even realize how many other suitors his wife has had to fend off in order to be with him – starting from Mr. Shinji.”

An expression of pure disgust settled on her features, and Gilgamesh easily deduced, “That is the blue-haired one who grabbed you.”

Surprised again that he remembered, she stared at him, some uncertainty in her eyes, and then slowly nodded.

“Yes. He has always been rather lewd even when sober. He is obsessed with Mr. Shirou’s wife.”

She shook her head lightly at the recollection, even as she took a cookie from the plate of sweets. “I will never understand, nor condone, that kind of behaviour.”

She remained silent for a while, focusing on chewing on the delicious biscuit – the second one she took – until he spoke again.

“Who was the other man? The one who was all morose and isolated?”

She turned more serious, failing to keep concentrated on his strange interest in the matter.

“That was Mr. Lancelot. He was engaged to be married to a lovely woman named Guinevere, but unfortunately, she passed away before they could pronounce their vows. He often came in the evenings to brood and… drink away his sorrows.”

Knowing that his gaze was still on her, she admitted softly, “I tried to be supportive. The loss of a loved one is never a light burden to carry.”

Gilgamesh’s eyes were boring into her soul.

“I see. You were kind and, in his grief, he thought you were singling him out – and he came to bestow his affections on you. What a _lowly_ way to deal with loss,” was Gilgamesh’s immediate deduction and subsequent derisive comment.

She snapped her head up at him, eyes blazing.

“How would you know, Gilgamesh! Everyone deals with sorrow their own way and, while Mr. Lancelot’s change of affections can be questionable, he never did anything more than address me with marriage offers when he drank a little too much. Compared to others, he was even too much of a gentleman!”

His crimson eyes narrowed in such a dangerous way that her green ones widened.

“‘Others’?” he questioned darkly. “What did those inferior, unworthy, disgusting pieces of filth–”

She quickly interrupted him, “As I told you – I requested to be dispensed from working in the evenings, for the behaviour from the patrons was too forward.”

She seemed to be finished, since she refused to add anything else, but Gilgamesh was clever enough to be able to read between the lines.

Even though she had not insisted on it – she obviously did not like to dwell on unpleasant memories – it didn’t take much to realize that she had likely gone through years of verbal harassment from the patrons. Not physical, probably, or she would have behaved differently, but the fact that she had been subjected to years of the disrespect and harassment of those soiled excuses of human beings truly explained why she had been so trusting towards him for behaving differently.

As much as she still resented him, after all, she couldn’t deny that he was nothing like those disgusting people in town; and since he had not behaved like them, it had not taken her long to give him her unknowing trust.

Gilgamesh didn’t however let her focus on her ponderings, as he wasn’t yet ready to let the subject drop, and his voice sounded sharp and cold when he spoke.

“They were not simply forward; they were offensive, disrespectful and completely out of line. You know that very well, and that is why you asked to be dispensed of being among them in the evenings.”

His vehemence did not surprise her, as she held the same feelings towards the patrons’ behaviour; but she _was_ surprised by the fact that Gilgamesh was so angered on her behalf.

She took the now empty plate of cookies – she had finished them all, to her slight embarrassment – and quietly began to gather the rest of the dishes since they had finished eating. Even though the maids were soon going to come in to complete the task for them, there was nothing wrong in already beginning to help out.

Carefully, without looking at him, she finally said, “They certainly weren’t a positive side to working there.”

With equal carefulness, his eyes never leaving her as he stood up and took the plates out of her hands firmly, he asked her a question that was going to have a rather obvious answer.

“Did you like it there?”

With truthfulness, Arturia replied, looking up at him and holding his gaze, “I wasn’t unhappy at the inn, but no, I cannot say I particularly liked being there.”

His penetrant stare was starting to make her uncomfortable, especially when he asked, a strange hint of emotion in his voice, “Couldn’t you have just left?”

She had to hold back from snorting.

“And where would I have gone?”

Her remark was on point, and a brief pause followed as she took the plates again and piled them up, ready to be taken away. Then she turned to meet his eyes, the dismissal clear in her expression.

“But in the end, I _did_ leave, Gilgamesh – I’ve come here, haven’t I?”

The serious finality in her tone made it obvious that their conversation had ended, and he had to fight to keep himself from frowning.

It seemed that, no matter how much he tried to talk with his wife about other matters or bring up other subjects, everything always went back to the initial one – their marriage.

...

...

...


	2. The radiance of the far future

…

…

…

Seasons were usually kind on his village, but winter was still winter after all, which meant that it was ice-cold even within the castle. However, Arturia’s capable directions regarding fireplaces and heating had rendered the rigid weather considerably more endurable inside the walls.

Still, having to sleep on the floor, even with the added blankets underneath him, was going to prove to be truly unbearable. He frowned at the large space on the floor that had become his domain ever since he had gotten married, and wondered if he should request for the maids to bring him yet another blanket, as he did not intend to freeze.

Arturia had already retired under the covers a few minutes before, facing away from him and not sparing him so much as a glance, but suddenly, she spoke up.

“You may sleep in the bed tonight.”

She had not turned to address him, and he could not see her face to try to understand what she was thinking, the only thing visible being her golden hair peeking out of the warm covers. He couldn’t deny that he was taken aback.

There was silence, until she added, with some hastiness, perhaps feeling his eyes on herself, “Since the floor is icy, you may _sleep_ here, not… anything else.”

Gilgamesh threw his head back and laughed, standing up and reaching the bed to which he had not been allowed to come close for a very long time.

“Do you really think me so wicked as to wish to try to take advantage of your good heart, Arturia?”

She remained still, but then she finally turned around to meet his eyes, and his laughter died on his lips at seeing the expression of pain that was etched in her features.

“Why should I not believe you capable of such a thing, Gilgamesh? After all, while it was my naïveté and not my good heart you took advantage of, you already did exactly that.”

She turned away from him again and refused to utter another word as he settled himself beside her, not allowing him to slide under her own linens but not protesting when he added his blankets to cover them both.

It was certainly much more comfortable than the cold floor of the room, but Gilgamesh didn’t feel as warm as he should have, and he wasn’t able to fall asleep for a long while.

How deeply had he actually managed to hurt his wife?

…

…

He was not used to dwelling on thoughts like this. He was not used to reconsidering his actions and examining his conduct. But neither was he used to leaving things as they were when there was an unfinished business, and with his wife – his wonderful, beautiful and rightfully stubborn wife – that was certainly the case.

The following morning, he was woken up when Arturia stood from the bed, as he could feel the light shift in the mattresses’ weight. Before she could take her dress for the day – to his secret pleasure, it was a dark blue gown – and disappear behind the screen to put it on, he leaned forward and grasped her wrist.

She turned her head to face him, her expression surprised and wary.

He stared into her emerald orbs, still a bit drowsy from sleep, and simply said, “Arturia, as you know very well that it isn’t the truth, continuing to blame _me_ for having agreed to marry me will not bring any kind of positive result.”

Her eyes flashed, but she didn’t try to free her arm.

“I am fully aware that I have mostly myself to blame, there is no need for you to point that out–”

“That doesn’t correspond to the truth either,” he interrupted her, bringing himself to a sitting position and using the hold on her wrist to pull her slightly closer.

Her eyebrows were lifted high.

“Oh, then should I blame _no one_ for my lapse in judgement that made me fall for your deception and right into your trap?”

His eyes now flashed as well, and he rose to his feet, bringing her even closer to him.

Was _this_ how she regarded him? Did she consider him someone akin to a jailer, a captor, someone who had carefully sewn a net around her to trap her inside it?

And why, why did her opinion of him matter so much?

But he couldn’t let himself be distracted from his main objective, so he endeavoured to overlook some of her words.

“No, Arturia. Blame the social rules and the education that was impressed upon you, which made you be less cautious than you should have been towards a stranger, and blame the disgusting amount of mongrels that surrounded you and which offered you no incentive to stay among them.”

He saw her eyes widen slightly, and he leaned even closer to her. “You made a mistake, yet not only did you realize it immediately, you are _also_ punishing yourself for it.” He avoided mentioning that she was punishing _him_ as well, but he knew that she certainly hadn’t forgotten it. “You left your previous life behind, therefore you can’t deliver your punishment on the real causes of this. The time for that has come and gone – live your present life now.”

She remained silent, before narrowing her eyes and finally yanking her wrist free from his hold.

“You took away what remained of my innocent, perhaps naïve, vision of the world, in quite a harsh and unfeeling manner,” she coldly informed him. “You will excuse me if I now treat every word that leaves your mouth with utmost caution.”

“I did not take any of your innocence away,” he replied, with equal coldness. “What happened between us simply forced you to face reality.”

Seeing her rapidly enraging expression, he prevented her from speaking by continuing, “You told me about the patrons at the inn, you told me about their stories and their behaviour. You were not blind to falseness, deception and intrigue; you merely _refused_ to accept them, even if they were right in front of your eyes, and refused to believe they might ever happen in your own life as well.”

He paused, before adding his last, cutting words, “You have never been blind nor innocent enough to be unaware. You just refused to acknowledge it.”

The vulnerable expression in her eyes was hidden quickly, but Gilgamesh still managed to get a glimpse of it. He was surprised at feeling a stab of remorse at it, but stifled it as swiftly as he could. He wasn’t finished yet, but this time, she didn’t allow him to speak before her.

Bitterly, she said in a low voice, “I see that even this early in the morning, you enjoy trying to humiliate me, Gilgamesh.”

He leaned forward, and shook his head with a minimal movement, suddenly irritated.

“That is not what my wish is, and you are perfectly aware of it. However, I made an agreement with you about our marriage; I intend to respect it, but am unable to do so if you refuse to cooperate.”

She leaned a little forward as well, and he had to control himself to avoid looking down at her lips, which were just there, so tempting, in front of him.

“I _am_ getting to know you, Gilgamesh.”

“No, you are not,” came his sharp reply. “We barely converse at all, and when we do – you always manage to either insult me or blame me for something and then close off. Always.”

He was accusing her – rather correctly – of refusing to accept reality when it was right in front of her; it was going to cost her some pride, but she was not going to make the same mistake again.

Very slowly, not breaking eye contact for a second, she finally nodded with some reluctance, acknowledging the truth in his words.

“That is… correct,” she reluctantly conceded. “However, you are not being completely honest, Gilgamesh.” _Once again_ , she added mentally, but made an effort to avoid saying that.

Even if she had valid reasons for her behaviour, it was true, after all, that she tended to antagonize him more than was necessary; she grudgingly realized she should start to control her bursts of anger when they weren’t justified. “Aside from today, you have never been the one to start a conversation between us. If you truly want us to talk more, then you could start by making an effort at breaking the ice as well.”

He looked taken aback by her cutting but completely true accusation, and after a second, chuckled lightly.

Not able to keep her eyes off him when his face assumed that attractive expression, she immediately sought to prevent her staring by swiftly muttering, “If the conversation is finished, I’ll go get dressed now.”

Rapidly, she picked up her dress and disappeared behind the screen to change into it.

After finding his own clothes as well, Gilgamesh later went to tend to his duties feeling much more relaxed than usual.

Finally – there had _finally_ been some progress with his precious wife.

...

...

...


	3. A beginning that is still

…

…

…

Compared to the town she had grown up in, Arturia had to admit that Gilgamesh’s village was technologically much more advanced. Looking back on it now, it was no wonder that, back at her town, her husband had not known how to use the fountain in the stables, since he was used to things like faucets.

Being involved in governing, it went without saying that she began to understand a little more about the village.

The people seemed to like her well enough. While she was fairly reserved and talked little about herself, no one could ignore the fact that putting the needs of others before her own came natural to her. She went to great lengths to make sure everything ran smoothly in the tasks that were hers to look after, she took care of her duties admirably and, most importantly, she did so _willingly_.

Her decisiveness and dedication made sure that her authority was never questioned, even when she demanded hard work from the people in and outside the castle. Most subjects were capable, but needed a firm hand to guide them, and Arturia suited that role perfectly.

The king did not lack that at all, but he had many other matters that required his attention and he could not do everything on his own. The queen took over without question in those cases, and she proved that she was good at ensuring the welfare of the people while looking after their needs and bringing improvements where she could.

Since her days were filled with tasks and duties, it was inevitable that she would end up having a different sort of insight into the governing. She found out – to her slight incredulity – that her husband was actually respected and admired, and by seeing first-hand the effects of his decisions, she could have no doubts about the fact that he was capable.

It was true that he wasn’t knowledgeable about some specific matters of importance sometimes, but she had to admit with some ruefulness that he was smart enough to know who to put in charge when he didn’t have the direct competence. Puzzled by that, she began to discreetly question some of the people he appointed, to find out more about what kind of man he truly was.

From Irisviel, Arturia learned that Gilgamesh’s mother had been adamant in raising him in a way that would give him first-hand awareness and real knowledge about most of the matters he was going to have decisional power on. She was surprised to hear that he had been used to manual labour certainly not as much as she had been, but he wasn’t unfamiliar with it in the slightest.

From maid Illya instead, Arturia found out that Gilgamesh had been the one to guide her horse Milk safely to the stables. On the day of her arrival, when she had been whisked away to supervise the castle, Gilgamesh had first ensured himself that her horse was properly looked after before going to take care of his administrative matters.

That was truly something astonishing. Arturia remembered telling him that her mare Milk needed a firm hand to guide her; furthermore, Milk was usually suspicious of strangers, but as Illya reported, she had accepted Gilgamesh and he had been pivotal in guaranteeing that she was safely guided to the stables. Arturia had gone there personally to check on her horse’s health, and she had had to recognize that she was being looked after properly, even though, regretfully, with all her duties, she had not had the chance to go riding yet.

As time passed, Arturia started to drop some generic questions, as casually as possible, in her brief conversations with Gilgamesh, but also with Enkidu when she had a few moments to talk to him. Enkidu was friendly but didn’t open up easily, and Gilgamesh was mostly the same. He didn’t usually say much about his past, but the few small details he gave perfectly collimated with what she had heard from others.

She couldn’t help mentally analysing what she learned about her husband with more and more curiosity. She knew that people often showed their true colours when dealing with those who were considered inferior to them, not those whom they considered their equals, and therefore kept an eye on how he treated the servants.

He didn’t necessarily look down on his subjects; he seemed to tend to be more derisive towards outsiders. Even if she still wasn’t over the fact that he had manipulated her into marrying him – and with good reason – she had to admit, however, that he had never seemed to look down on her.

He wasn’t necessarily nice to his subjects either, but he secured their safety and prosperity as much as possible and again, in case of minor threats from the outside, he seemed to be fiercely protective of his village and every single person there. He also seemed very smart in using the riches he possessed, without wasting them but without leaving his people in true need of anything either.

The more she thought about it, the more she realized she was beginning to become seriously puzzled. What kind of man _was_ her husband?

…

…

Even if winter had already come to an end and temperatures were decidedly rising with the arrival of spring, Gilgamesh kept sleeping next to his wife. He wasn’t going to suggest for him to move back to the floor; unless she kicked him out of the bed, he did not intend to remind her that she was supposedly still angry at him.

He was starting to get more than a little frustrated though. Months had passed since they had gotten married, and she had not softened in her behaviour towards him. She was either incredibly firm in her convictions or incredibly stubborn – or well, maybe both.

However, it was truly starting to get at him, and it irritated him so much that one evening he finally snapped.

Right after having dinner with her, he slammed his hands on the table, allowing his exasperation to take over.

“What must happen, Arturia, in order to have you finally trust me?”

Her surprise quickly turned to fury, and she replied angrily, “You know perfectly well that trust isn’t something that can be gained in a matter of days and, after the way you tricked me into marriage, you can hardly expect me to be welcoming towards you.”

Then she narrowed her eyes at him as well. “Besides, you keep demanding my trust, but never even consider that you should give me yours as well.”

His irritation quickly left him for a moment of honest astonishment, and he blinked.

She averted her eyes, and he took notice, for the first time, of how tired she looked. Arturia had been looking tired for quite a while, now that he thought about it; she always went to sleep late and got up early in the morning, and if what the servants had said were true, she never took more than a few quick moments to rest.

It hit him then that she hadn’t stopped working hard for his village, not once, ever since they had gotten married. Not one day free, not a single hour free; she must have been working _too much_.

Seeing that she was about to begin to gather the dishes, he abruptly took a step forward and took them from her hands, finishing the task in her place.

“Leave these,” he ordered her curtly, his hard stare keeping her frozen in place as he rang the bell for the servants who came to take out the plates he had piled up.

As soon as they were gone, he studied her face keenly, focusing on her appearance rather than her behaviour. She still hadn’t said a word after he had so suddenly changed the subject, after all.

She seemed to have become paler and slightly thinner since coming to his village, and he felt more than honest concern coming over him. Was she even taking care of herself?

“You have been overworking yourself,” he stated, eyes sharp on her. “You need proper rest. You are not a _slave_ , Arturia–”

“I am a servant,” she cut him off, her gaze suddenly hard. “You wanted me here to take care of the duties you wouldn’t bother with. Not a queen – a _servant_. And I agreed to it. So why should you care about it now?”

He grabbed her wrist firmly, making sure his grip wasn’t too forceful though, and noticing that indeed she seemed to have lost weight.

“I _do_ care,” he said, anger in his voice. “And not about your tasks, but about _you_.”

She shook her head at him, and even if he did not show it, he was truly dismayed at seeing the actual sadness in her eyes.

“I don’t believe you,” she said simply, breaking free from his hold before turning to walk away.

However, she stopped briefly, and without facing him again, brought up their previous conversation once more. “What is needed to make this wretched marriage work is simple: I want equality. You can’t keep demanding things that you are incapable of giving me as well – things like respect and _trust_. And stop trying to manipulate me with lies.”

She looked over her shoulder, her eyes inscrutable as they met his. “The only person you care about is yourself, Gilgamesh.”

...

...

...


	4. And raise your song

…

…

…

Given that she was focusing her all into making sure her duties were taken care of properly, Arturia had completely failed to notice how much Gilgamesh was observing her.

As spring was ending, it was nearly harvest season, and since she was to supervise it, she often found herself speaking with the farmers in charge of it.

While she did notice her husband appearing to be around her more often, she hadn’t actually realized how he incessantly stared at her as she talked to others.

Nor had she noticed him narrowing his eyes dangerously when she accompanied a very polite man called Diarmuid to the empty silos with a couple of other farmers to check if they were in good conditions and ready to stock the crop.

…

…

Gilgamesh had not expected to start to feel something as petty as _jealousy_ towards every single person who could benefit of his wife’s time, care and effort. He was not blind to the fact that she seemed to catch everyone’s eye when she was among the people, but he had not thought he would feel it so glaringly.

And he was astounded by the fact that he was beginning to feel _worried_ ; he had obviously hurt her enough to make her seek other people’s company – but had he hurt her enough to make her seek someone else’s _affection_?

He knew it was childish of him, but he could not stop himself from wondering if his wife was looking for friendship – _close_ friendship – with other people… or worse, had she already obtained it without him having any knowledge of it…?

When once again he saw her speaking with the farmers at the silos and then going with them to the barns, it took him all he had to just barely keep his composure. What were they doing? Why did they look so happy when together with _his_ wife? What was happening behind closed doors when he could not see them…?

Luckily, he had enough wine to drink that evening to avoid dwelling too much on it.

Later that night however, in their room, Arturia sarcastically commented that he must have drunk more than usual to be so broody – and he lost his patience.

He stood up from the edge of the bed where he had been sitting, and bluntly stated, “I saw you outside with the farmers today.”

Surprised by his blatant vehemence, she raised an eyebrow.

“Yes…? I was overseeing the wheat work. Everything is well and ready for the harvest.”

There was no hint of deceit in her voice, but his fist still clenched at her words, and he took a few steps closer to her.

“Leave that job to someone else.”

She narrowed her eyes as she kept looking at him, obviously not following his line of thought.

“You said yourself that one can trust very few people to do one’s own job; whom should I delegate this to?”

“Me,” he smoothly interjected. “Call upon _me_ on these occasions. Don’t work with them ever again.”

Her eyes, which had widened slightly in shock when he had suggested himself, narrowed again.

“What is the reason for your sudden decision of ordering me around?”

His fists clenched again. He wasn’t ordering her around, he was simply questioning–

He held back a sigh as his voice came out like a hiss.

“I’ve seen how they look at you, and I’ve seen how you smile at them. I’ve seen you follow them to the barns. They came out all smiling giddily.” His eyes flashed and his voice lowered menacingly. “ _What_ did you do when you were alone with them, away from everyone else’s eyes? Were you _entertaining_ them in other ways…?”

The next instant, his cheek was burning, and he stared at her in absolute shock. She had… she had just _slapped_ him…!

But that was nothing when he saw the look in her eyes.

“You disgust me,” she said, her voice low and slightly trembling in anger. “How _dare_ you insinuate something like that. How dare you think I would _ever_ behave in such a way. No matter how much I resent you for luring me into this marriage, I have told you from the start that I would be loyal to your cause. Have I ever given you reason to doubt that? To doubt _me_?”

Her voice didn’t crack, even as heavier emotions passed through her eyes. “Or maybe, could it be that it’s just your beloved wine talking?”

His crimson eyes were wider than usual, and he stared at her in nothing but pure shock – because she was completely _right_.

What had he been _thinking_ in accusing her like this?

She suddenly sighed, and as he saw that her shoulders were slumping, he also noticed, once again, how pale and exhausted and even _depressed_ she looked. With all the work she had been doing, she had every right to be tired, and now… now he was accusing her of…

She turned away from him, obviously intending to ignore him since he hadn’t given her an answer and was simply staring at her. But he would not have that.

He called out to her, “Arturia.”

Yet she didn’t spare him a glance, instead acting as if she hadn’t heard him as she opened her drawers and rummaged through her things. She took out her comb, sitting on the bed and beginning to untangle her golden locks, when he walked to her side and kneeled in front of her.

He ignored her attempt at trying to stop him and push him away, and gently took her face into his hands.

“I should never have said such revolting things.” His voice was serious and firm, and she stilled.

He wouldn’t do something as human as taking a deep breath, but he did pause briefly before continuing, “I will not attempt to blame it on the wine, as I didn’t have any more than usual. Knowing what kind of person you are, condemning you for what I implied is offensive… and completely senseless.”

He was awful with apologies, he realized it very well, and he _hated_ being in a place where he had to apologize in the first place, but he was more than aware that in this case, an apology was the very least he had to offer her. “I spoke angrily, but my anger is directed at the way the men were looking at you – something for which you aren’t at fault in the least. I should never have blamed it on you. What I said was… wrong.”

He had never found anything more difficult to do than pronouncing those words, and he had to struggle with himself to finally admit something as humiliating as having been wrong.

But when he saw her eyes minimally, fractionally, almost invisibly but definitely, _soften_ , he decided this humiliation was worth it.

His fingers caressed the skin of her cheeks lightly, and he leaned closer to see her eyes better and fix her under an intense stare.

She did not move and held his gaze with equal intensity. No matter how tired her overall appearance was, her emerald eyes had not lost any of their sharp focus.

He struggled once again to continue, but he overcame his pride.

“However, I cannot deny that I… deeply dislike seeing you with those men alone, and I am not blind to how much you have overworked yourself these past months.” He paused. “It’s not yet time for the harvest, and since all the necessary preparations have already been completed, it means there is now time to take a break.”

He leaned even more forward, one of his hands leaving her cheek to go around her waist and hold her closer to him. “You have not yet seen the entirety of El Dorado. Come out riding with me tomorrow.”

Her eyes expressed her surprise at his suggestion.

“What…? Why?”

Gilgamesh liked the fact that she was not against the idea; she simply wanted to know the reason for which he was suggesting something of the kind. And she was making no attempt at leaving his arms.

He inclined his head to the side, the hand cupping her cheek moving in a slow caress.

“Let me show you the village of which you’re the queen.”

What he didn’t add was that he wanted her to himself for an entire day, but he knew that she was more than clever enough to understand that it was implied.

Therefore, he waited.

Now the choice was up to her. _He_ had made their marriage get off on the wrong note; _he_ had caused her more pain than he could ever hope to understand; _he_ had just accused her of something as absurd as frolicking around with the farmers.

While he could make suggestions to try and slowly begin to fix things, the ultimate decision was hers. Saying that he wasn’t fond of having to give up control like this was an understatement, but it could not be helped.

Besides – of all the people in the world, he was doing it for her. For Arturia.

It was more than acceptable.

Slowly, she finally nodded, to his utmost delight.

“Very well,” she conceded. “Let’s go out riding tomorrow.”

Not giving him the time to do more than feel warmth and pleasure, she added, “But we are taking food with us, because riding makes me incredibly hungry.”

After a moment of being disconcerted, he chuckled lightly. She was adorably fascinating.

Looking at her, he could not help being reminded of how young they both still were; they had every right to take a day or two off, especially since it was going to be for the sake of their marriage.

His thumb briefly traced her cheekbone in a fleeting caress, and he replied, amused, “I am quite confident that such a thing can be arranged.”

...

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**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The next part of the series will have a mature rating because of a slightly more explicit section.  
> Thank you to MimiBlue for her patience in editing this! And thank you so much for reading :))


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